


Just business

by Youarenothuman



Category: Sherlock (TV), The Godfather (1972 1974 1990), sherlock/the godfather
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-10-30
Updated: 2011-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-25 02:18:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Youarenothuman/pseuds/Youarenothuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - Present day London is controlled by mafia "families": The Powers family who use brute force; Cars who control all transport; Price, with endless money supplied from high up and finally the Holmes family, supported by the people. But a new mysterious family has arrived and is disturbing the all-ready un-settled peace. And now, they appear to have a mole in the Holmes family.</p><p>Enter John Watson, an army doctor just returned from action, who accidently ends up in the family business. The Holmes family business to be exact, lead by the obnoxious Sherlock Holmes. An unlikely friendships forms as John becomes the only person Sherlock can trust. Will John be the making of the family, or it's downfall?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Returning Home

**Author's Note:**

> This needs some reworking, so I'm looking for a Beta :) Enjoy!
> 
> For anyone who does not know about the Godfather family set up etc, this is be explained in later chapters
> 
> *I don't own any charcters used in this video, this is made for fun and not profit* Copyright Disclaimer Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for "fair use" for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Non-profit, educational or personal use tips the balance in favor of fair use.

 The man's face twisted in pain, his hands clutching the hole in his stomach. Within seconds, his hands were coated red.

 

From behind the cover of a wall, John Watson, army doctor, met his eyes and his breath caught. He tried to push up on to his knees and rush over the no man's land towards him, but another fellow soldier slammed into his shoulder and pushed him back, keeping him down behind cover. John thrashed and tried to run out to the dying man. He bit at the arm of the man holding him down, who yelped and relieved pressure for an instant. An instant was all John needed.

 

He shoved the man aside and ran out to cover proved by their Land Rover, half way to the fallen soldier. Shoving his fellow soldiers who were covering there back behind the wall, he jumped in to the vehicle, head down, and started the engine. Shifting it into first gear, he drove towards the bleeding body. Parking in front of it to provide cover, he hoped down and, protected by a wheel, set to work patching the man up.

 

Bullets whizzed over his head and John found himself praying for them to get out of there alive.The man had opened his eyes, and even thought John was merely halting the blood flow, he was thanking John.

 

“We aren't out of this yet mate.”

 

“Near enough. Now that you're here.”

 

The guy smiled and John returned it. He opened the door and felt around for his first aid kit. Finding it under the seat, he dragged it out and bandaged the guy up the best he could. By this time, his team were advancing slowly over the ground towards them and John found himself relieved to be living seeing as he had once again saved a life whilst foolishly risking his own.

 

Until a bullet planted itself in his shoulder.

*

 

His eyes flew open and he bolted up as he felt the bullet enter his shoulder. Panting, he looked around his plain room, pushing the images from his mind. Exhausted by yet another night without any sleep, he collapsed back down onto his bed, the duvet somewhere on the floor next to him and the sheet untucked. Rubbing his eyes, he willed away the tears forming there.

 

*

 

"I thought you were away getting shot at. What happened?"

 

"I got shot."

 

“And now you're a doctor. Didn't see that coming."

 

“I didn't either. Parents forced me into medical school. I have to admit they were right to do so though. After leaving the army with my shoulder, healing people was the one thing I was good at apart from shooting them.”

 

Mike grinned. They sat opposite each other at a little table in the café on Lander Street corner. Both held a cup of coffee between their hands and were watching the world outside of the window, enjoying each others company, even in silence.

 

“Do you miss the war?”

 

“A little more every day.”

 

A scowl had fallen upon John's features and he glared out of the window, watching the traffic. 

 

A black car swung around the corner, weaving through the traffic, as a man dressed in dark green in the shotgun position shot at another black car behind it. The other cars in the street all tried to move away at ponce, resulting in chaos. The people on the pavement took off down the road, clutching at their partners or kids hands.

 

 Everyone in the café dropped to their heads and bent their heads down, expect John who just sat staring at the vehicles chasing each other.

The first car was to busy weaving through the chaos to realize the road was blocked and that he was going to crash. The car crashed to a stop as John had predicted, but the firing didn't stop as the two men crawled out of the wreck and ran to cover behind the other cars. The second car stopped too, and the front doors opened and proved cover for the two men who got out of the front seats.

The man who John could see through the window was an imposing figure, his hair dark and a smirk on his lips. He was dressed entirely in black, expect for a red handkerchief in his front pocket.

 

“Sebastian Wilkes, Holmes family.”

 

John glanced to Mike and realized that his old friend was the only other person who hadn't dropped to his knees. In fact he mirrored John, just sitting and watching the events happening outside of the window with interest.

 

“Holmes family?”

 

Mike looked at him in confusion, and John could see the gears clicking together in his head. John had been away from London for years, it appeared a lot had changed in a short while.

 

“I had forgotten. I'll have to explain later, now isn't the time or place but basically, crime has taken over here, much like Italy and America in the 20th centuary. The whole city is run by “families”. Every one in this city is loyal to one family, or at least prefer one. These two are the Holmes family and the Powers one.”

 

“Which is which? And how many are there?”

 

“The ones in green are Powers and the ones in red are Holmes.” He quickly looked back outside, like he was scared of the men overhearing him. “There are two other families; Cars and Price.”

 Now that John knew what he was looking for, he could easily see that the red in the Holmes clothes, and the green in the Powers's suits. The coulours appeared to be a uniform. John nodded before replying straight away.

 

“Which family are you loyal too?”

 

Mike glanced around the room before looking at him sternly. He'd never seen Mike so on edge.

 

“You don't ask questions like that if you value your life. For old times sake, and because you don't know the rules, I'll let you off. I'm with the Holmes.”

 

John muttered a 'Sorry' before nodding as he had already guessed the answer. The man's face had lit up when he had seen the man step out of the car, and the fact he knew the man's name meant he knew exactly who and what he was talking about. John knew he should shut up now but he continued.

 

“Why the Holmes?”

 

“Because they aren't bastards like the rest of them. Well, the Don is, but their priorities are in the right place. They only exist to protect the people of London from the foreigners. Most people around here support them, certainly in this neighbourhood. Ah yes, the city is spilt into neighbourhoods. Each family has a stronger presence in one of them, but they spread themselves out into the others part of town too, like the bar at the end of this road in Cars even though we are in the Holmes neighbourhood.”

 

John looked back outside at the gun fight and saw one of the Powers people was dead, a bullet in the shoulder and two in his chest and the other one was heading towards the café door where he and Mike were seated. Mikenoticed and finally ducked down like the rest of them.

 

John tensed, his mind reeling like it did in action, thinking out every scenario.

He could just duck down like everyone else, but he couldn't, it went against everything he stood for.

He could leave out the back door, but again, he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

 

That left one option. He ducked down and tipped their table over, providing cover for him and Mike as he withdrew his gun from the back of his trousers.

 

“Shit. John get down, the Powers guys are not simple soldiers. You don't understand, it's best to let them be and hope they don't hurt one of us.”

 

“Are you insane? They could kill one of us.”

 

“They will kill you!”

 

John's eyes met Mike's panicked ones but his mind was already made.

 

Because if the Powers guy came in here, the Holmes's would have to shoot into the café and everyone’s life would be risked. And that just pissed him off. Who were these guys to risk killing innocents?

 

Mike begged him one last time as the man barged into the café backwards, shooting at the men still outside. John flicked a hand at him to be quiet before, acting on reflex and years of experience, swiftly stood up and shot two bullets into the man's head. The dead man's gun dropped to the floor and clattered loudly before the weight of the dead body also crashed down. John hid his gun and ran, crouched as the Holmes were still firing, towards the dead body. Eyes followed him across the room to where he knelt down besides the man and felt for a pulse, sighing against his will when there was none.

 

Sebastian burst through the doors, his gun pointing towards John.

 

“Don't move, raise you hands, drop your weapons. Who are you? Where do your loyalties lie?”

 

John looked calmly back at him, slowly placing his hands on his head and leaning his weight onto his heels stated:

 

“John Watson, army doctor. No loyalties, just back from Afghanistan.”

 

The man looked at him and hesitated. He had clearly not expected an answer, and not one so quickly and calmly. He stared at John for a few seconds longer before his eyes swept around the room.

The tense moment passed as Sebastian smiled charming at the owner of the shop.

“Ah Miss Elizabeth. Sorry about that. We'll pay for a new door, don't worry. And men will be coming around to clean up the mess.”

The owner smiled sweetly at him and kissed his cheek.

 

"Never mind, never mind. Boys will be boys."

 

Sebastian smiled before noticing Mike, who had straightened himself and was holding out a hand to him.

 

“Ah Mikey! Good to see you. How's the wife?”

 

“Good good. Yes, it's been awhile hasn't it? I've just had a little trouble lately.”

 

“Trouble? Serious? Why didn't you come to the family straight away?”

 

When Mike didn't reply, Sebastian turned back to John, scowling.

 

“If you aren't loyal to us, why did you shoot him? And where on earth did you get that gun?”

 

The man's tone was mocking at the end and John had to remember that he was probably required to show respect to this man, and hence replied seriously.

 

“I shot him because he was a danger to innocents. Mike is loyal to you, and I am Mike's friend. And for the gun, you don't really need to know that. I wonder where you got yours.”

 

Sebastian's narrowed his eyes at John before looking at Mike who nodded. He turned back around with a pleasant smile on his face and a light laugh at his last sentence.

 

“A friend of Mike's is a good man. And one to be trusted. And as for the guns, we'll call it even.”

 

There was an easy smile on the man's face now and he offered a hand to help John up. John took it and stood up next to the man as he looked down at the body, rubbing his chin.

 

“Good shot. An army doctor did you say? Hmmmm interesting. And handy.”

 

He looked down at the body and then back at John, studying everything about him.

 

“How would you like a new line of work? I think the Don will really like you.”

 

“What sort of work?”

 

A sly grin crossed the man's face.

 

“Work for the Don.”

 

“And who is this Don?”

 

Sebastian looked at Mike in disbelief before returning to John with a huge smile.

 

“Why for Don Holmes of course.”

 

 

*

 

“Don't give me that blank stare. I swear that when you die, I'm going to keep your skull and continue to talk to it, and I won't even realized the difference!”

 

The Don moved around his office, throwing a folder on to his desk before sending a glare at Sebastian. When the man didn't respond, the Don glared at him some more before sighing and turning to face him full on.

 

“Why are you here? I already know you killed Power's men, you didn't need to come and bother me to tell me information I already know.”

 

The Don saw Lestrade roll his eyes from the armchair he was sitting in.

 

“Go gentle on him. Stop being so rash.”

 

He received a glare too before the Don turned back to Sebastian.

 

“Well then? Report!”

 

“Two of Powers men, lowly soldiers, were eliminated on the corner of Park Avenue and 10th Street.”

 

“I know, I already said I knew. Don't you listen to me?”

 

“One of the men was shot twice in the chest by me, one bullet to the shoulder by Andy. The other wasn't shot by either of us.”

 

Holmes glanced at him now.

 

“Really? That wasn't in the report. It was faulty. Will have to tell Molly. Who by?”

 

“A civilian by the name of John Watson. Two shots in the back of the head.”

 

“Ah a loyal civilian. Boring.”

 

“No.”

 

Here Sebastian paused and watched the Don slowly turn back around to hear the rest.

 

“He's not loyal. Just returned from the war. Awfully good shot. He's sitting outside.”

 

“He's not loyal? Who is he loyal too? You just let a random man into my safehouse, the one truly safe place for me, because he's a good shot? How stupid can you be? He could be a trap, one of Powers men, or Price's!”

 

Lestrade coughed and motioned towards the door and spoke for the first time in a lower tone.

 

“The walls are awfully thin. Calm down and just meet the man. It's obviously why Sebastian brought him back. It's because he saw potential.”

 

“Sebastian sees potential into many people. And you usually send them away to be trained only for them to be shot taking over a warehouse. Which is a waste of time and money!”

 

“Not to mention lifes.”

 

The Don didn't even notice that Lestrade had spiken and gestured towards the door. “Fine, let him in.”

 

As Sebastian turned to open the door, the Don returned to moving the papers on his desk around, in a hope to make the piles of paper disappear.

 

He heard some footsteps, a quiet _enter_ then two sets of footsteps coming back. No, three.

 

He turned only his head, his back still to the door and watched Sebastian return, along with a man he remembered as one of the man's friends.... Mike, that was his name... and another blond man, who looked around the room quietly before just standing there, waiting for the next move.

 

 _*_

 

“Afghanistan or Iraq?”

 

John looked towards the tall pale man whose hand Mike was currently kissing.

 

“I'm sorry?”

 

“Which was it? Afghanistan or Iraq?”

 

“Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you know that?”

 

The tall man didn't reply, just returned back to his papers as Mike threw him a quick smile.

 

“Ah Molly.”

 

The young man had twirled around a second before the door opened to reveal a young woman, clutching a coffee in both hands which she handed to the man.

 

“One of your reports is faulty. I hope it's someone else's fault, and not yours. I would hate to have to replace you.”

 

The woman woman flushed red and smiled at the man's back with pride, glad she was valued. It was obvious to see her feelings for the man.

 

“What was wrong with it? I wrote all of it down....”

 

“It would take ages to replace you.”

 

Her face fell and she quickly turned on her heel and left, brushing past John. He looked after her before realising the Don was once again speaking to him.

 

“How do you feel about drugs?”

 

“I'm sorry, what?”

 

“I have meeting tomorrow where a man is offering me a branch of a drug racket. Should I take it or not? Potential family members need to think on their feet.”

 

“Who said anything about family members?”

 

“I did. Told Sebastian we needed more men and that I'm difficult man to find new members for. Now here he is with a man clearly just home a military service in Afghanistan. Not a difficult leap.”

 

“How did you know about Afghanistan?”

 

“I have a nice little spot as a soldier, if you can prove you're worth it. We'll meet again tomorrow. Sorry must dash, got to prepare for tomorrow.”

 

“Is that it?”

 

“Is that what?”

 

“We've just met and you're going to offer me a spot in you family?”

 

“Problem?”

 

“We don't know a thing about each other! I don't know where we are meeting, I don't even know your name.”

 

John watched the man's face transform. Mike started smiling and everyone paused to watch the man.

 

“I know you're an army doctor, recently invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's concerned about you, but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him - possibly because he's an alcoholic; more likely because he recently walked out on his wife - and I know your therapist thinks your limp's at least partially psychosomatic - quite correctly, I'm afraid. Enough to be going on with, don't you think?"

John stood there, not meeting the man's eyes as everyone left the room. He glanced towards Mike, before realising the man still hadn't left, and was standing at door, about to disappear.

 

“The name's Sherlock Holmes and the address is Two Two One B Baker street. Afternoon!” 

 

The man twirled out of the room and John turned to look at Mike.

 

“Yeah, he's always like that.”


	2. Drugs bust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have included a description of everyone's current role in the family.
> 
> Also, relationships between certain characters are different from the original, but it's a different universe, but they themselves remain the same character.
> 
> This is heavily based on the original Godfather chapter, but the other chapters will be my own content.
> 
> Enjoy!

The Holmes Family

Sherlock: The Don of the Holmes family. He is the highest power around and everyone knows his name, and his bad temper. Bored by anything that isn't pure business, he skips the sweet talk and the social niceties, pushing them off onto the other members of the family. His family is everything to him, and he can easily hold a vengeance against someone for years.

Mycroft: Sherlock's blood brother, they have what you might call a difficult relationship. He is the Consiglieri to Sherlock's Don, when he isn't to busy running the country. Mycroft is a power in his own right, and often sends useful information on to Sherlock. He watches over the family constantly, worries over his brother and knows every ones dirty hidden secrets.

Lestrade: Sherlock's most trusted capo, some might even call them friends. They have known each other for five years now, and a lot has changed since then. Together they set up the family. Lestrade is the Yin to Sherlock's Yang and performs all the small talk. He works in the police, clearing up some of the murders the families have committed. People are already betting on his chances to be Underboss, though Sherlock claims he has no need for one. But those closest to him know that if it comes down to it, Lestrade won't have the guts to pull the trigger.

Dimmock: Lestrade's subordinate. After helping Lestrade out on a few crime scenes at the start of his career, he soon caught on to Lestrade's link to the Holmes family, even though it wasn't technically legal for the police to be under family protection. Though he and the Don barely see eye to eye, Dimmock is recognized for being able to think on the spot in order get the job done. His rise though the ranks has been speedy, and his future looks even more promising.

Sebastian: The Don's right hand man, this is the man who gets stuff done. The most feared man in the family to outsiders, he is charming to all those under the protection. He is a banker, and it suits his cold heart. He often finds new recruits, sets them up and then sends them on their way. He is currently stuck to the Don like glue, his personal bodyguard. Why the Don has insisted on having a body guard, no one knows yet.

Raz: The youngest capo in the family, he truly worked his way up the ranks. Known as the street boy, he walks the streets and knows all the rumours. His sharp cheeky tongue has gotten him in trouble a few too many times, but Sebastian has always been there to help him out. Whilst every one else in the family dresses in sharp suits, Raz prefers to blend in with the crowd. A useful trick.

John: Newly loyal to the family, is John to be trusted? The Don has taken a shining to him, in a way that has everyone a little suspicious and, in some cases, jealous. Will John rise in the ranks and save the family? Or was Sherlock's first assumption that he is a spy correct? If so, what will be the cost for that mistake?

 

It's surprising to find that the Holmes family isn't already top dog, and the truth is that it could be. But this family never wanted domination, it was simply created to protect London from the other families. And that's why it is so highly regarded from the people of London.

 

Drugs bust.

Gregory Lestrade went into his office in New Scotland Yard the following morning. He planned to catch up on his paper work so as to have everything cleared away for the meeting with Sollozzo, the drug dealer, that evening. A meeting of such importance that he had asked the Don for a full hour, a lifetime in the Don's busy life, to prepare for the proposition they knew Sollozzo would offer the family business. Lestrade wanted to have all the little details cleared away so that he could go to that preparatory meeting with an unencumbered mind.

That evening Lestrade went to the Don's house and headed straight to the library. The Don also summoned Sebastian Wilkes, his current protector, Dimmock, Lestrade's associate and Raz, the newest capo-regime.

Don Holmes settled into an armchair puffing a cigarette and letting the ash fall onto the arm. Lestrade had tried to get him onto nicotine patches with no luck, and now the man was ruining a set of furniture that had been in his family for centuries.

“Do we have all the data?” The Don asked.

Lestrade opened the folder that held his notes. The notes were in no way incriminating, merely cryptic reminders to make sure he told the man every important detail, though he knew fully well that the Don already knew every minor detail, probably even more that Lestrade.

“Sollozzo is coming to us for help, he will ask the family to put up at least a million dollars and to promise some sort of immunity from the law. For that we get a piece of the action, nobody knows how much. Sollozzo is vouched for by the Price family and they must have a piece of the action. The action is narcotics, drugs. Sollozzo has all the contacts and the whole enterprise set up and protected right up to the point of bringing them over to England and then distribution.

The man is a Turk. He supposed to have a wife and kids over there. He has a record in Italy and in America. He did terms in prison for both. Known by the police as a narcotics man. This could be a plus for us; he's considered the top so he'll get immunity to testify.”

Lestrade closed his file and settled down in his chair in the corner, as the Don took another draw of his cigarette and turned to Raz.

“You know the streets, what do you think? Is it good business?”

Lestrade knew what Raz would say. He wanted a big operation of his own; this would be perfect.

Raz hesitated and thought about what he was going to say before replying, letting no excitement into his voice.

“There's a lot of money in little white powder, but it can be dangerous. I've seen whole lives been torn to shreds because of that dust.”

Next, the Don inclined his head to Dimmock to speak.

“Some people could wind up in jail for twenty years. I'd say that if we keep out of the operations, just struck to protection and financing, it might be a good idea.”

Lestrade looked at Dimmock approvingly. He was personally responsible for the younger man and he had just played his cards well. He had stuck to the obvious, the best course for him.

The Don scanned the other DI before turning to himself. It appeared Sebastian was not to participate in this matter, the man was still holding a grunge against him for bringing the unknown army doctor in to his home.

“And you, Greg, what do you think?”

Lestrade prepared himself to be absolutely, if not brutally, honest. Because he knew he was the only man in the room with enough power over all the younger men to do so.

“I think you should say yes. You know all the obvious reasons. But the most important one is this. There is more money potential in narcotics than any other business. If we don't get into it, someone else will, most likely the Price family. With the revenue they earn they can amass more and more police and political power. Their family will become stronger than ours. Eventually they will come after us to take away what we have. Narcotics are the coming thing. I think we have to have a piece of that action or we risk everything we have. Not now, but maybe in ten years from now.

The Don seemed impressed, taking a puff of his cigarette with a light in his eye. He stubbed out the rest on the armchair and stood up.

“What time do I have to meet the man tonight?”

Sebastian replied from in his dark corner. “He'll be here at seven.”

“I'll want you all here with me.” The Don said. He rose, stretching, and headed to the door. Lestrade blocked his passage and motioned with his head to make all the others leave the room. After the men had shuffled out, sneaking glances at the two of them, Lestrade dropped his arm and also rose to his feet, meeting the Don squarely in the eyes.

“I don't know what your decision tomorrow will be, but do not let your experience with drugs affect your judgement. It's not personal, it's just business.”

Sherlock scowled at the older man, lips pressed tight and left the room after throwing a dirty look at Lestrade.

 

*

Virgil “the Turk” Sollozzo was a powerfully built, medium sized man of a dark complexion. He had a scimitar of a nose and cruel black eyes. He also had an impressive dignity.

Raz meet him at the door and brought him into the dining room where Lestrade and the others patiently waited. Lestrade thought he had never seen a more dangerous looking man. He had never seen such force in one man, not even in the Holmes family.

There were polite handshakes all around as Mrs. Hudson, the landlady, brought out a huge meal she had prepared for everyone. Lestrade liked Mrs Hudson as she was one of the truly nice people in the business. She welcomed the new recruits and made them feel at ease whilst managing to keep the Don alive by forcing food down his throat.

As everyone started eating, Sollozzo came to the point immediately. He had obviously done his research into the Don and knew he didn't like to be kept waiting. Lestrade started to worry how deep his research had gone and what it showed up.

The business was narcotics. Everything was set up. Poppy fields in Turkey. Protected plant in France to convert it into morphine. A completely secure plant in Sicily to process it into heroin. Smuggling in those countries was as safe as matters could be. Entry into this country would entail about a five percent loss since MI5 was incorruptible. But the profits would be enormous, the risk non-existent.

“Why do you come to me?” The Don asked from the head of the table. The man was staring intently at the Turk. No food lay before him, his whole mind concentrated as the task at hand. Lestrade didn't know how the Turk didn't flinch under the gaze. In fact, his face remained impassive.

“I need two million pounds cash. Equally important, I need a man who has friends in high places. Some of my couriers will be caught over the years. That is inevitable. They will all have clean records, that I promise. So it will be logical for judges to give light sentences. I need a friend who can guarantee that when my people get in trouble they won't spend more than a year or two in jail. Then they won't talk. But if they get ten or twenty years, who knows? In this world, there are many weak individuals. They may talk, they may jeopardize more important people. Legal protection is a must. I hear, Don Holmes, that you have as many judges in your pocket as a thief has sets of keys.”

The Don didn't bother to acknowledge the compliment.  
“What is the percentage for my family?”

Sollozzo's eyes gleamed. “Fifty percent.” He paused and then said in a voice that was almost a caress. “In the first year your share would be three or four million dollars. Then it would go up.”

“And what is the Price's family's percentage?”

For the first time Sollozzo seemed to be nervous. “They will receive something of my share. I need some help in operations.”

“So I receive fifty percent merely for finance and legal protection, is that what you tell me?”

Sollozzo nodded. “If you think two million pounds in cash is merely finance, I congratulate you, Don Holmes.”

The Don studied him for few minutes whilst the rest of them ate in silence. The Don's eyes caught his gaze at one point, but Lestrade could read nothing in them, no notion of the Don's thoughts.

Eventually the Don reached an answer as he lifted his head and straightened up.

“I heard you were a serious man to be treated with respect. So I agreed to see you. But I must say no to you. The profits in your business are huge, but so are the risks. Your operation, if I were part of it, could damage my other interests. It's true that I have many friends in politics, but they would not be so friendly if my business was narcotics instead of gambling. They think gambling is something like liquor, a harmless vice, and they think narcotics is too risky. I only have half of them because I stopped using the drug on myself five years ago. Since then my business has flourished and I wish not to endanger my family out of greed.”

The only sign of Sollozzo's disappointment was a quick flickering of his eyes around the other faces in the room, as if he hoped one of the others would speak in his support.

“Are you worried about the security for your two million?”

The Don smiled coldly. “The money is the least of my concerns.”

Sollozzo tried again. “The Price family guarantees your investment also.”

It was then that Raz made an unforgivable error in judgement and procedure. He said eagerly:  
“The Price family guarantees the return of our investment without any percentage from us?”

Lestrade was horrified at this break. Everyone in the room stopped breathing, including Raz when he noticed he had done something wrong. Lestrade saw Sebastian's face fall, as Raz was his associate and Lestrade was thankful that Dimmock had not spoken a word all evening.

Then the Don turned his glare on Raz and Lestrade's blood ran cold. The Don's eyes, usually impassive, burnt in rage, all of it concentrated on the young street man. The man had been foolish and in one simple sentence had ruined his career in the family. He would never again attend an important meeting, he would live a life on the outside, merely a point man for the family. If he didn't end up dead.

Sollozzo gazed at the young man smiling coldly. When the Don spoke his voice held dismissal.

“Young people are greedy. And today they have no manners. They interrupt their superiors, they meddle. But Sir Sollozzo, my no is final.”

Sollozzo shook the Don's hand, eyes still resting upon Raz, who was looking calmly at the floor, counting his breaths in and out.

Sebastian got up, placed a hand of Raz's shoulder, then left to show the Turk out.

Everyone in the room was now standing as the Don's face morphed back into anger. He turned on the foolish boy and lowered his face to his height. When he spoke, his voice was filled with venom, slow and extremely dangerous.

“Never let anybody outside of the family know what you are thinking. Never let them know what you have under your fingernails. Your brain is going soft from the luxury I gave you in the form of a house and anything else you wished. Stop it and pay attention to business. Get out of my sight.”

Though Raz looked concerned, a hint of relief lay under the surface as he fled from the room. The Don sighed, sinking into a relaxed position, leaning on one arm that head the back of his chair as Mrs Hudson hurried in and started cleaning the plates around him. Everyone left except the three of them and finally the Don looked up at him. Fetching a cigarette from his pocket, he spoke slowly.

“Sollozzo is a dead man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of John, but don't worry, he will be back next chapter! This simply sets in motion the oncoming events.


End file.
